how long must we wait
by sheetsofpaper
Summary: finn/rachel drabble. Canon angst, early season 4. Post 4x01, pre 4x04. Or, three times music made Rachel miss finn, and one time music made finn miss Rachel.


p style="color: #222222;"stronga/n. it's sort of really short, and also I went a bit overboard with italics. hope you enjoy it, though. leave a comment if you do! /strong/p  
p style="color: #222222;" /p  
p style="color: #222222;"strongi. /strong/p  
p style="color: #222222;"It happens at the apartment. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"She's flipping through channels, lazily sprawled on the couch. She pauses on a station showing Grease, clicking the controller and settling back to watch. It's almost over, but she's grateful for the distraction from NYADA and Cassandra and Brody and emeverything/em./p  
p style="color: #222222;"And for a little bit, it all seems okay. She's at peace with the world, sitting there in her little New York apartment./p  
p style="color: #222222;"That is, until emYou're the One that I Want/em plays, and all she can think of is sad clown hookers and plaid shirts and emhim/em. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"She can't breathe. It's like all the air has been sucked out of her lungs and she needs emergency aid. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"Onscreen, Sandy and Danny are dancing, but Rachel can't stop crying. /p  
p style="color: #222222;" /p  
p style="color: #222222;"strongii. /strong/p  
p style="color: #222222;"Kurt found this little café two blocks from their apartment which apparently serves cinnamon coffee. It doesn't sound too special, but he's enamored by it and made her empromise/em to stop by with him when she got home from her classes. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"So here they are, in a little booth, cinnamon coffees in front of them. Eighties music is playing, and she thinks she rather likes the atmosphere here, thinks maybe she should come more often. Then emLivin' on/em ema/em emPrayer/em ends. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"And emFaithfully/em starts to play. Journey emFaithfully/em, Sophomore year Regionals emFaithfully/em,em 'Break a leg' 'I love/em emyou' Faithfully/em. It's emtheir song/em. It was, at least. Back when they had Glee Club every day and she was picking out a wedding dress and it was going to be them, forever, faithfully./p  
p style="color: #222222;"Back when there was no talk of "surrendering"./p  
p style="color: #222222;"And now she is shaking and people are staring and she glances at Kurt with a silent plea to emget her/em emout of/em emhere/em. He obliges, because they are best friends and he knows what this song means. They leave their drinks and rush out of the café, the chorus still ringing in her ears. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"She leans on Kurt as they walk home, and later they agree that cinnamon coffee is emso/em not worth the hype. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"She has never had a better best friend slash roommate, Rachel thinks, as Kurt politely pretends not to notice the tear tracks on her face at breakfast the next morning. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"strongiii./strong /p  
p style="color: #222222;"There's a record store near the NYADA campus, and one day after a particularly exhausting dance class (featuring a particularly snappish Cassandra July), she decides to treat herself with a frivolous purchase. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"Her dads gave her a record player for her birthday last year, and she still only has a couple records, so she's thinking something classic, maybe Celine or Aretha. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"For some reason, though, once she steps in the little shop, the bell jingling, she's drawn to the Holiday music section. And even though she's Jewish, she finds herself sifting through Christmas vinyls. There's Bing Crosby and Jim Reeves and Frank Sinatra, but it is when she comes upon a Whigfield record that she pauses./p  
p style="color: #222222;"It's their cover of Last Christmas, and as she stares at the cover, she remembers./p  
p style="color: #222222;"Junior year, Christmas. The tree farm and the impromptu duet. She remembers feeling like she would have done, given anything to have him back./p  
p style="color: #222222;"There's a hollow feeling in her chest, like something, emeverything/em is missing. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"And she just really, emreally/em wants to go home. /p  
p style="color: #222222;" /p  
p style="color: #222222;"strongiv. /strong/p  
p style="color: #222222;"He's in the northwestern bit of Georgia when he comes across the little diner. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"It's exactly what you'd expect out of this sort of place, with checkered tile flooring and peeling red vinyl booths. There's even an old jukebox in the corner. It kind of reminds him of the diner just outside of Lima, the one people would go to when they were tired of Breadstix and didn't mind a bit of a drive./p  
p style="color: #222222;"The hostess glances up from her crossword and uses her pen to point to one of the many empty seats. Taking his pack off his shoulder and slumping against the back of the booth, he skims the waitress pours him a coffee and asks if there isn't emanything/em he needs, fluttering her eyelashes and sticking her chest out./p  
p style="color: #222222;"He shakes his head and says he's still deciding, thanks. The woman retreats with a huff, and he stares out the window./p  
p style="color: #222222;"Avoiding the mug in front of him (he never could stomach coffee), he looks up when an elderly couple enters the diner. The woman's first stop is the jukebox, and as he watches, the man hands her some quarters to insert inside the machine. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"When the first few bars of an Elvis Presley song comes crackling through the speakers, he raises his eyebrows, surprised that such an ancient player worked. It's the next song the woman selects, though, that really catches him by surprise./p  
p style="color: #222222;"It's… it's Barbra Streisand, and she's singing emDon't Rain on my Parade/em./p  
p style="color: #222222;" And his stomach drops, because it was emhers/em. Rachel didn't write the song, or anything, and she had no legal claim on it, but everyone knew that Barbra was Rachel Berry's territory, most of all emDon't Rain on my Parade/em. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"She sang it for Sectionals Sophmore year, and totally saved the club. And chose it for her NYADA audition, even though that didn't work out as she'd planned. And it was her favorite song to belt out unannounced. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"So this was very much Rachel Berry's song. And to hear it hurt. Listening to the lyrics made him want to throw something, or scream, or, as pathetic as it sounded, cry. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"emGod/em, he was stupid. They could have been emmarried/em by now if he hadn't been such an ass. Shoving his hands through his hair, he hoisted his pack onto his shoulders. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"He put a five on the table for the untouched coffee and strode out, the door slamming behind him. He wasn't that hungry. /p  
p style="color: #222222;"And anyways, Rachel sang that song emso much better/em than Barbra ever did./p  
p style="color: #222222;"strongv./strong/p  
p style="color: #222222;"It's like he's a part of her, inside of her./p  
p style="color: #222222;"Engraved onto her bones, mixed in with her blood and coursing through her veins./p  
p style="color: #222222;"And she can't get him out./p  
p style="color: #222222;"She's not sure if she even emwants/em to. /p  
p style="color: #222222;" /p  
p style="color: #222222;"strongfin./strong/p 


End file.
